


Wolfsbane (of my existence)

by Rainyface6



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Angst, Eating Disorders, Loneliness, M/M, Minor Allison Argent/Scott McCall, Pining, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Stiles Stilinski has an Eating Disorder, Suicide Attempt, The Hale Pack - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-10-12
Updated: 2019-12-09
Packaged: 2020-12-13 20:55:59
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 2,790
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21004034
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rainyface6/pseuds/Rainyface6
Summary: Stiles is annoying.Derek knows this.But Stiles also gives great hugs and is full of information and tells funny (even if annoying) jokes.And because Derek knows this, he falls.Hard.But Stiles is struggling with something.And if Derek doesn't figure it out soon,  he might not have someone to fall for.





	1. Prologue (Derek's POV)

**Author's Note:**

> I know, I know, a Teen Wolf fic in the year of our Lord and Savior 2019? But I wanted to try something out for my first long-form story and Derek and Stiles were an easy start. I'm planning on playing with point of views and past/present tense, so if it gets confusing let me know.

It started in that awful pool, after the battle.

Stiles was in my arms, blood gushing out of his face, barely breathing. He was sweaty and dirty and his heartbeat refused to level out. Still, he looked up at me and smiled.

"Hey, Sourwolf, how many werewolves does it take to change a light bulb?" He doesn't wait for my answer, because he knew one wasn't coming. "None. They're all picking up the piece from when my stupid ass tried to do it."

Needless to say, I wasn't amused. "Not funny, Stiles."  
He chuckled painfully. "Yeah I suppose it wasn't funny. Doesn't make it any less true though," he said, eyes glistening with sadness and self-loathing. "I always seem to be making the biggest mess around here."

I wanted to tell him that he was wrong. I wanted to tell him that, while his habit of blustering into dangerous situations might get him killed, it did help us find and kill the source of our problems. I wanted to tell him that he didn't make the messes, that he wasn't to blame, that the monsters were to blame and he was just a victim, a kid thrown too early into a world of evil and violence.

I never did.

Instead, I looked into his small, tired body in my arms and my heartstrings played a symphony of pain and longing. I looked at his soft hair, which was currently inundated with dirt and sweat yet still seemed to frame his face in just the right way. I looked at his deep, dark, beautiful chocolate eyes, gleaming with mischief but also concealing this horrible sadness, sadness that came from not really knowing where one belongs.

I wanted to tell him he belongs to me. I wanted to tell him this so bad, but it was not my place to tell. He was too young, I was too broken. It could never work.

Still, my mouth wanted to betray these thoughts, so I kept it shut. And I never told Stiles all the things I wanted to say.  
I never told him those things he needed to hear.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It got worse after the Nogitsune.

Admittedly, I didn't realize the difference in Stiles' demeanor at first. Maybe I was busy, or maybe I was preoccupied with all the killings, or maybe I was trying to ignore my feelings for him by avoiding him.

Looking back, I'm upset that I let it go on for so long.

When I finally did notice, the damage had been done. Stiles had become so angry, yelling and scoffing and smirking in ways he never had before. I couldn't even remember the last time he called me Sourwolf, or told a stupid joke, or teased Scott about Allison. I couldn't even recall the sound of his laugh. That's how angry he was.

It all came to a head that night in the hospital. Stiles, sneering, eyes glowing and mouth grinning in a frightful manner. It wasn't right, I knew it wasn't right, I knew that this couldn't be my Stiles, but it was his face. His face making that evil, terrifying grin. His voice saying those cruel attacks. His body slashing through those victims, all without a care in the world.

Through at all, I couldn't stop seeing him, the real him, underneath the hatred and sadness and anger. I couldn't help but look into those deep brown eyes and see him crying out for someone, anyone to see what was happening. Yet, I said nothing, in fear not only of what was inside him but also that nothing was inside him, that this was him and he was evil.

I should've known better.

The shit really hit the fan when Allison's throat was slashed. Scott, screaming and crying, started to tell and tear at Stiles. And, for some reason, the real Stiles listened. I saw him start to fight with voice in his head, growling, and crying and struggling. I wanted to save him, to hold him close and shake it out of him.

However, he soon came to, eyes wide in the fear of what he had done. My heart shattered, and again found myself falling for this delicate person, no longer a child, but still forced to deal with monsters, including the ones in his head.  
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It didn't get better after Donovan's death.

In all fairness, things had been tough between then and the Nogitsune. Allison and the other Nogitsune victims were resurrected and the hospital footage destroyed, so Stiles' was declared blameless and nothing bad happened officially. However, the sight of Scott's best friend killing his girlfriend left its scars, and the friendship between them never fully recovered.

Furthermore, when the Sheriff saw the video footage of his son cruelly taunting and murdering people, he (fairly) wanted an explanation. And Stiles gave him an explanation, but the Sheriff wasn't satisfied, and their relationship suffered as well.

Through all this chaos, Stiles kept on coming to me, and we would talk for hours about everything and nothing. I would listen to his laugh and look into his eyes and fall deeper and deeper into his spell. At this point, he was 18 and I was 22, so a relationship wasn't impossible, but I didn't want to get my hopes up.

And then Donovan died, and everything changed.

Scott was pissed. It didn't matter that it wasn't Stiles' fault or that it was self-defense. Stiles told Scott he wouldn't kill again, and he did, and Scott just couldn't remove his best friend from the deeds the Nogitsune forced him to do.

So Stiles' was kicked out of Scott's life and, more importantly, kicked out of the pack.

At first, I wasn't displeased with this news. It had become harder and harder to talk to Stiles without revealing my true feelings, so a little space from him wasn't unwelcome.

However, I soon found myself missing the little things, like his jokes and his laugh and our conversations, and in this distance my fondness grew. Now, I want his annoying self more than ever. But he is too far away from my grasp.


	2. Control (Stiles' POV)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The beginning of Stiles's problem arises. He yearns for control, but it seems to be taking his agency instead.
> 
> TW: Eating Disorder, Bulimia, maybe some depressing thoughts

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whelp, here it is, almost 2 months later then expected. Whoops. My bad :) I started this fic right when my schedule for busy, and since finals are this week I decided to procrastinate until now (y'know, the busiest week of the scholastic year). Mark my words: this fic will be completed by the end of the year (even if I have to post the epilogue at 11:59 PM on December 31) 
> 
> Also if you hadn't realized by now, this is unbeta'd, so while I am a grammar freak who catches even the most minute mistakes, there are bound to be some flaws. Also also the tense is a mess and we appreciate her for it. Also also also I made the executive decision to keep the Sheriff's name "Noah" bc I was already taking many liberties with the timeline and I figured I should at least stay true to canon in that sense.

It wasn't the fighting, or the screaming, or even the dirty looks that got to Stiles after he was kicked out of the pack. It was the silence. It was the way every time he saw Lydia, she looked past him like he didn't exist. It was the way that when he asked Liam, or Danny, or even Jackson to send a pass his way during practice, they'd quickly send it to someone else. It was the way that Scott, his childhood best friend, his brother, would hold Allison a little bit closer to himself when Stiles walked down the halls, ignoring Stiles's attempts for high fives. So, yeah. The silence sucks. Even at home he can't escape it; his dad is almost never home anymore (working even more late nights after the Nogitsune disaster) and even when he is he just sits on the couch watching NCIS with a beer in his hand. One cold morning before school, Stiles' decides to get rid of the silence. "Hey, Dad," he says, "how was work last night?" "Good. Nothing exciting happened. Missed having a warm meal at home for me," Noah replies absent-mindedly. Stiles made a mental note to start making his dad dinners like he did before the whole Nogitsune... Thing. "Good. Cool." "Cool." "..." "..." "I'm going to go on a run" Stiles' blurts out. That got the Sheriff's attention. "A run?" he asks, "won't you be late for school. "Uhhh, I don't think so. I'll run at the track, so I'm already there, and I'll keep it pretty short." "Okay, but don't forget to go to class," the Sheriff reprimands. "Although it's nice you're starting to care about staying in shape."

_The fuck does that mean?_, Stiles thinks. He walks out the door without so much as a goodbye from his father and heads to the Jeep. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Another shit day at school. Not only was the merciless tirade of silence still in full swing, but Mr. Harris decided it had been too long since Stiles had been in trouble and gave him a detention for "talking" (for the record, Stiles was not talking; for that, he'd need friends to talk, which lately have been in short supply for him). As he walked into his house (two hours later than usual, thanks Harris), Stiles sees a note on the refrigerator

_Saw you weren't home--we'll talk about that later. Working late tonight, so just look in the fridge for dinner. Thanks, Dad_

Huh, not even a 'love you' from dear old dad. Stiles' should expect it; after the whole Nogitsune fiasco, his dad has held Stiles away at arm's length, clearly fearful of what Stiles could do. Stiles' can't blame him; sometimes looking in the mirror is an arduous task. Stiles' begins to scourge through the fridge before a voice in his head says "stop."

That's funny. Stiles usually prefers voices outside his head, but pays it no mind and leaves the fridge empty-handed. He sets up his homework in his bedroom and completes it with no problem. At one point his stomach rumbles, but he chooses to ignore it. It can't be that big of a deal--lots of people don't eat all the time, so what's one skipped meal going to hurt Stiles? ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ The week passes by in a similar fashion: school sucks, Noah works late, Stiles doesn't feel like eating, repeat. Stiles even begins to skip lunch in favor of studying in the library (it's not like he has any friends who'll notice anyway). At this point, it's almost about control--yeah, Stiles' has no friends, and ADHD and his mom's dead and everyone hates him, but at least he can "forget" to eat dinner and it's all in his hands. No more Nogitsune taking over his brain or ADHD impulses clouding his decision-making; Stiles' was the captain now.

Besides, he could start eating again whenever he wanted. He just hasn't wanted to yet.

All this changed Friday night when Stiles got back home to see the Sheriff in the kitchen, apron tied around his waist, water boiling over the stovetop and the smell of burnt something wafting from the oven. Stiles' would have laughed at the sight if his father's expression wasn't so grumbly. Speaking of, his dad obviously had a no-nonsense expression as he talked to Stiles. "Family dinner tonight. No talkbacks, get-outs, or exceptions. We need to talk." Stiles shrugged. The truth was ever since the pack shunned him he had nothing to do on Friday nights. He used to enjoy the pack meetings on these days, but he's come to numb the part of himself that craves going back to his friends.

_Maybe if you had had more control, you would be there right now_, the voice mused. Stiles' was a little surprised by the thought, but it was right. If Stiles could control himself, all the shitty things in his life--the shunning, the constant anger, the silence--would've never happened. His mom probably would even still be alive, as she wouldn't have had a child that needed such focus to where her brain started to overwork.

Shaking the thoughts from his head, Stiles helps his father finish dinner by cleaning up the boiling water and making some Alfredo. The garlic bread, however, was without saving--his dad had never been much of cook outside of grilling. When Stiles finished the pasta, they sit down to eat (for the first time in a month, Stiles thinks bitterly). However, when Stiles' looks down at his food, something about the noodles disgust him. They seem to move around his plate, jiggling in the white goo, Stiles's stomach churning at the sight. A voice inside him screams DON'T as he lifts the fork to his mouth, causing him to stop in his track.

Unfortunately, it also causes his father to take notice of him since they sat down, causing Noah to open his mouth to talk. "Where were you Monday night? You didn't get home at your usual time?" the sheriff bemuses in an accusatory tone.

Stiles sighs. This is not going to be a pleasant conversation. "Ummm, yeah sorry about that. Harris was being a-" "Harris?" Noah interrupts. "I haven't heard that name in a while. What'd you do this time?"

"Nothing! I literally did nothing, Dad-" "BULLSHIT. How many times have you used that excuse? You say you are doing nothing, that everything is fine, but one day I get a call that my son is terrorizing a hospital and it turns out that he's been lying to me for years and that 'nothing' is actually the fact that supernatural forces exist and one had possessed him. Even worse is when I confront him about it, he just lies and lies and doesn't even deign me with the truth and tries to tell me it wasn't real when I knew it was. So, yeah, Son, I'm sorry I think when you say 'nothing' you mean some supernatural shenanigans that you and Scott got into that broke into school causing your chemistry teacher to get pissed." His dad screams, obviously some unaddressed anxiety leaking into his words. With a pang, Stiles realizes his dad doesn't even know him and Scott aren't talking anymore. When Stiles looks into his eyes, he almost sees the ghost of a tear, and even though he knows his dad is way wrong, guilt builds up into him. "No, no, that's not true, it's not--"

"Save it," Noah says crisply, "I don't want to hear excuses anymore. Just... Eat your food." Stiles' nods, anger building up as he again tries to eat the pasta. But the voice continues: _No, stop it. _

_Stiles, stop. _

_Your control, the control you've worked so hard for, it will all be gone. _

_STOP. Don't eat. _

_But if I don't eat_, Stiles inwardly protests, _my dad will know something's up. _

_Who cares? It's your control at stake. Besides, if you had more control, he would love you more. He wouldn't need to get tired of your motormouth and constant movement and the way you always seem to get into trouble. You'll finally be the son he always wanted_. 

His stomach grumbles. He hadn't realized how hungry he was until he sat down. When was the last time he actually ate? 

In the midst of all this inner turmoil, Noah had started to look concerned, twirling his pasta over and over in his fork. Not wanting to trigger his father's anger again, Stiles puts his fork to his mouth again.

_Don't. Don't eat it. _

_Don't eat don't eat don't eat don't eat Don't eat don't eat don't eat_

_Don't eat don't eat don't eat don't eat eat don't don't eat_

_Don't eat don't eat don't eat don't eat Don't eat don't eat don't eat_

_Don't eat don't eat don't eat don't eat eat don't don't eat_

_ Do not don't eat no eat Don't_ _ Eat eat_

The thoughts cluster in Stiles's head, but his stomach grumbles again. _Fuck it,_ he thinks, and stuffs the pasta in his mouth. It's surprisingly good (or maybe Stiles just thinks it's good because it is the first thing he's eaten in four days) and Stiles continues to shove the noodles in his mouth, not caring about c o n t r o l and just eating eating eating. He even gets seconds and eats a whole piece of blackened garlic bread along with it. For the first time in a while, Stiles' feels fulfilled. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ It isn't till an hour passes that Stiles regrets the binge. He is sitting in the bathroom, stomach distended from all the heavy pasta he just subjected it to. He didn't think about the consequences of not eating anything for days on end and then suddenly stuffing himself senseless with the heaviest food in the book.

_See_, the fucking voice muses,_ I told you eating wasn't right_. Stiles looks into the mirror. The reflection glaring back at him just doesn't feel right. The rabid look on his eye, the tired bags underneath. It finally catches up to him that he hasn't had a night free from nightmares since, well, _it_. Thoughts of the Nogitsune have burdened him ever since he snapped away from its grasp and the murder that followed. He knows what he needs to fix himself, to prevent the same carnage from happening again. He needs to gain control. So he hovers over the toilet, fingers down his throat, and purges the ugly impulse out of his system until finally his stomach feels good again. C o n t r o l

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> BTW fun fact the "Don't eat" portion came to me in a dream so whoever told you dreams don't come true is lying

**Author's Note:**

> Woo this got away from me a bit not gonna lie. Will post next chapter soon. Also all the chapters are going to be in Stiles' POV so if you don't like how I portrayed Derek lmk for the epilogue. Thanks :)


End file.
